I’ll be up before dawn with some friends in Florida to drink Bucks Fizzby Diane Roberts / May 18, 2018 / Leave a comment
I don’t get out of bed on a Saturday morning for anything less than a diamond tiara. And a first-rate collection of Philip Treacys and Manolo Blahniks. Since the royal wedding is guaranteed to provide the chapeaux and the shoes, I’ll be up before dawn with some friends, all women, all American, to drink Bucks Fizz, eat lemon cake (we couldn’t find any elderflower here in North Florida), and watch Meghan Markle marry HRH Prince Harry of Wales.
We won’t be the only ones. All across the United States, otherwise sane people will rise at an ungodly hour to catch the action of Windsor live. In Manhattan’s Queen Elizabeth Park you can eat bacon butties and catch the action on a big screen at the Brit Block Party; Tina’s Traditional Tea Room in Carmel, Indiana will serve coronation chicken and a cuppa; the Rittenhouse Hotel in Philadelphia offers Pimm’s, wedding cake, and a 70-inch TV on which you can get an up-close view of the gravity-defying creation Princess Beatrice will (if the William and Kate wedding was anything to go by) be trying to balance on her head. Or you can stay home and feed on a box of “Harry and Meghan’s Wedding Rings Commemorative Breakfast Cereal,” complete with cartoon illustrations of the happy couple with spoons in their gloved hands, only $56 a box from Etsy.
So why is our democratic republic, a country with no titles of nobility, no monarch, and no mystic ancient rituals (unless you count the Super Bowl, now in its 54th year), going crazy over a ginger haired prince and his actress girlfriend? Americans like to tell ourselves that history is bunk, tradition is so over, and we are all equal. Didn’t we win that war back i…